


There Are Worse Things I Could Do

by shangrilove



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Greasers, Alternate Universe - Racing, Alternate Universe - School, Borussia Dortmund, FC Chelsea, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Liverpool, M/M, Musicals, Real Madrid CF, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shangrilove/pseuds/shangrilove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aka "5 Grease AUs No One Will Ever Write"</p><p>“This car is <i>automatic</i>, it’s systematic, it’s hydromatic.”  Stevie swats one of them with an oil cloth, “you idiots, it’s Greased Lightning, not some piece of junk. Just watch, this car’s going to make us Kings of Europe again.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Are Worse Things I Could Do

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kanjani8 - Five Grease AU's No One Will Ever Write](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/24528) by Alissa. 



> This is unbetad. I don't think I have friends who are insane enough to beta this for me. Let me know if you find any mistakes!

 

1\. Summer Nights

 

When Sergio walks into the locker room at the Bernabéu, with a smirk and extra swagger in his step, Iker scowls and whips the defender’s kit at him. “I don’t want to know. Just get changed and get ready for the game.”

 

“Summer loving, happened so fast.” Sergio hums as he strips, showing off an exquisite bite mark above his left hip.

 

“Tell me more.” Marcelo says, staring at his friend in fascination.

 

“Did you get very far?” Mesut, the poor deprived child asks.

 

“All you need to know,” Sergio says, slicking his long hair back with more gel, “is that he was tall, blonde and has the cutest freckles. Even on his ass.”

 

Usually, the team lines up in the tunnel, each immersed in their own pre-match rituals, but today half the team is listening in fascination to Sergio’s summer exploits while the other half (mostly Xabi and Iker) shakes their head in disapproval.

 

“We made out, under the docks.” Sergio says. “And then he got friendly down in the sand. To be fair, it was my first time getting some on the beach, I did not realize that sand can get everywhere.”

 

This causes Xabi to flip his head back at the defender, “You had sex in public? Are you crazy? What if someone recognized you?”

 

“Don’t worry. This was Ibiza, it was crowded as hell and I told the boytoy I was a lawyer in England.” Sergio laughs. “I told him we could still be friends, and left him a fake number. I’ll never see him again.”

 

Iker sighs, but Karim grabs him as they start walking out, “you’ve got to take me along next time.”

 

Sergio grins and gives him a thumb up. “Sure thing. I’ll get you hooked up in no time.” Then he proceeds to outline all the various ways to get his bald friend some ass when someone shouts his name.

 

“Sergio Ramos. Oh my fucking god. I knew I recognized you!” It’s a startlingly familiar player from Atletico who is being restrained from going after the defender and starting some kind of scandal on the pitch.

 

Sergio stares, it’s like he’s still on break, because he sees the blonde from that time at the beach and it can’t be right. Except it is and he starts to grin at the possibilities.

 

“Well, this will certainly make it convenient.”

 

~

 

2\. Beauty School Drop Out

 

“So? What did that dumb instructor José want?” Fabio grabs his friend coming out of the office. Today he’s wearing spray painted jeans with a rainbow unicorn motif and a leatherjacket he made with too many tassels and bells attached. The blonde dye in his hair is fading away to an unfortunate shade of mustard, and his facial hair looks like an used pot-scrubber from all the unkempt bits.

 

“That dumb instructor is also the dean of students. Anyways, it’s not looking good.” Cristiano shakes his head, a tuft of over-gelled ringlets shakes. “The board is going to review my case, but they could decide to expel me.”

 

“Beauty school drop out.” Fabio grins. “No graduation day for you.”

 

“It’s not funny!” The older man growls. “If I get kicked out, who’s going to give me a job without a diploma!” Mr. Mourinho promised to present him fairly, but the man has a few issues with diplomacy himself if the rumors about his predecessor getting gauged in the eye are true.

 

“Well, you did miss your midterms, and flunked shampoo.” The latter causes Fabio to crack up all over again. “I don’t see how someone can flunk shampoo. Plus, the guy they gave you for the test was practically bald!”

 

Cristiano sighs and resists the urge to punch his friend in the eyes. “Mr. Ferguson complained that I got soap in his eyes, told my examiner that I could’ve killed him.” Sometimes he really regrets wanting to become a hairdresser, he really should’ve stuck with football.

 

~

 

3\. Hopelessly Devoted To You

 

“Dude, you need to stop drinking and get over that asshole.” Kevin looks critically at the mess of various liquor bottles, unwashed glasses and half-eaten junk food spread around the room. Marco barely even acknowledges the other man in his apartment, instead just takes another swing from the bottle of gin gripped in his hand. His normally meticulous spiked hair is in disarray and coupled with the rumpled clothing makes him look like one of the drugged up youth Kevin frequently volunteers with.

 

“I can’t believe Mario left.” Marco mumbles, refusing to let go of the alcohol, but Kevin is insistent.

 

“Yeah he left. Munich gave him a scholarship, and Dortmund didn’t. Why would he stick around tutoring annoying first years and living off student loans with daily meals of ramen. Get over it.” Kevin rips the curtains open and is pleased to see Marco physically flinch from the exposure. “You’re not the first heart to be broken, and not the first eyes to cry. “

 

“No, I’m not.” Marco covers his face with his hands. “I’m just a fool, who’s willing to sit around and wait for him.”

 

“That jerk doesn’t deserve it. He dropped you the moment a better offer came along!” Kevin can’t decide to punch his friend, or smash a bottle of his head until he came to his sense. He knew from the first time they met during Frosh Week, he knew that chubby boy diva wannabe was bad news.

  

Marco stares sadly at an old picture of them, cramming in the library at 3am with cold pizza. He feels like crying. “I’m hopelessly devoted to him.”

 

~

 

4\.  Greased Lightning

 

“Hey, be careful with those chrome spinners!” Stevie barks at some of the newer guys on his maintenance crew. “Those are eight grand a pop and comes out of your paycheck if you drop them.” Henderson, Sterling and Suso look up fearfully at their displeased team leader.

 

“Sorry sir. We’re just trying to re-balance the wheel pistons.” The bald one with googly eyes apologizes, Stevie thinks his name is Jonja, or Jonju, something atypical like the kids now days.

 

He wishes he had his old crew, his first crew, instead of this ragtag group of inexperienced wannabes and suck ups. Xabi had been a great mechanic, could tell what the engine needed just by the sound of it coming in, which was exactly why he got poached by some big money Spanish team. And Jamie, never quite right after his hand got stuck in the brake pad, now off to be an analyst during F1 tournaments. Just Stevie now, left to look after Liverpool Motorsports, him and a bunch of youngsters so green they’re looking manual parking brake.

 

“This car is _automatic_ , it’s systematic, it’s hydromatic.”  Stevie swats one of them with an oil cloth, “you idiots, it’s Greased Lightning, not some piece of junk. Just watch, this car’s going to make us Kings of Europe again.”

 

~

 

5\. You’re The One That I Want

 

A couple members of the gang let out a series of long whistles Juan struts into Cobham fresh from breaking out of jail. Those idiots probably thought they’d never see him again, but he’s always happy to prove them wrong. The Spaniard juts out a hip, takes a long drag of his cigarette and waits for the reactions.

 

“Juan?” Fernando can’t believe his eyes. He thought the other guy was done for, and a pretty boy like him wouldn’t have survived prison for long.

 

“Tell me about it.” Juan grins, blue eyes twinkling as he tries to decide if he should forgive Fernando for being absolutely useless on their last bank robbery. “Stud.” He thinks he will, after all the tall Spaniard is still the best hacker they’ve got, and he gives the best head. He’s just going to have to make it up to Juan, and make sure they never leave him behind again.

 

“I’ve got chills, they’re multiplying.” Fernando says, coming to embrace his partner in crime. “And I’m losing control over the team.” 

 

“That’s because you’re too girly to be a proper mob boss. ”

 

Fernando pouts, his bitchface can win Academy Awards. “I’m not girly!” He’s flushed in indignation, mouth prettily pink and long blonde bangs covering his eyes. It doesn’t convince anyone.

 

“You better shape up.” Juan warns him. “Cause I need a man, and my heart is set on you.” It’s okay if Fernando is girly, after all, there’s a reason why hackers stay in the van and look pretty. And there’s the van sex. Juan is definitely looking forward to the van sex.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to you know, _actually_ write them into proper fics, feel free.


End file.
